“Just so; thank’e,” answered the man. “I was going to say, Mr Grenvile, that—well, our skipper’s a very queer-tempered sort of a man—he was second mate when we left home—and as like as not he may kick up a row about my receivin’ you aboard—indeed it wouldn’t very greatly surprise me if he was to order you all over the side again; so I thought I’d just better give ye a hint, so as you may know what to expect, and how to act.”
“Indeed, I am very much obliged to you for your timely warning, Mr —” said I.
“Carter’s my name—Henry Carter,” was the reply. “I’m actin’ as chief mate now, but I was third when we left London.”
“I understand,” said I. “But this captain of yours—he is an Englishman, I presume, and I cannot understand the possibility of his raising any objection to your receiving a party of distressed fellow-countrymen aboard his ship. And how comes he to be in command, now, if he was only second when you left home?”
“Well, sir, it’s like this,” answered Carter, starting to explain. Then he interrupted himself suddenly, saying:
“Excuse me, sir; I see that the hands are about to sway away upon the tackles and hoist in the boats. I’ll just give an eye to them, if you don’t mind, and see that they don’t make a mess of the job.”
With the assistance of the Shark’s people the boats were soon got inboard and stowed, after which my boats’ crews were bestowed in the forecastle and the steerage, there happening by good luck to be just sufficient vacant berths in the latter to accommodate the wounded. This matter having been attended to, the mate remarked to me:
“There’s a vacant cabin in the cuddy; but the stewards are all turned in, and it would take ’em some time to clear it out and get it ready for you; so perhaps you might be able to make do with a shakedown on the cabin sofa for to-night; or there’s my cabin, which you’re very welcome to, if you like, and I’ll take my watch below on a sofa.”
“Thank you very much for your exceedingly kind offer,” said I, “but I couldn’t think of dispossessing you of your own cabin, even for a single night. The sofa will serve my turn admirably, especially as I had no sleep last night, and not much during the night before. But, before I go below, I should like to hear how it comes about that the man who was second mate of this ship when she left England is now master of her. To bring about such a state of affairs as that you must have lost both your original skipper and your chief mate.”
“Yes,” answered Carter, “that’s exactly what’s happened. We’ve had what the newspapers would call a couple of tragedies aboard here. First of all, the skipper—who looked as strong and healthy a man as you’d meet with in a day’s march—was found dead in his bed, on the morning of the fifth day out; and, next, the chief mate—who of course took command, and was supposed to be a total abstainer—was found missin’, as you may say, when the steward went to call him, one morning—he’d only been in command four days, poor chap; and the mate—that’s our present skipper, Cap’n Williams—gave it out that he must have committed suicide, while in liquor, by jumpin’ out of the stern window—which was found to be wide-open, on the mornin’ when poor Mr Mowbray was reported missing.”